Scintilla
by scntlla
Summary: (FINISHED! Part Two coming out soon!) there might be something that wasn't there before, a fire where there used to be only ash. a tiny spark is all it takes for him to realize that he is slowly, slowly, slowly falling in love.
1. Apollo

**Apollo cursed the earth,**

 **and made the sun** _ **disappear.**_

* * *

It was a dreary day, to say the least. The sky was clogged with gray fluff, that which was inflated by the heavy weight of rain and thunder. The usually upbeat school of Mikagura Academy was transformed into some desolate place, as the youthful souls of the school confined themselves within the dry, safe boundaries of their dorms. Not many people wandered outside, and most of the lights were turned off as the lightning illuminated the sky and windows in sporadic flashes, instead.

Usually, there was only a handful of ways one could feel about stormy weather. The first was a feeling full of love and adoration, because some people thought that dark skies and rolling thunder was absolutely _beautiful_ , and that the flashes of lightning were as wondrous as shooting stars. They admired the way the storm revived and energized the plant life around them, and they appreciated it even more if it meant getting them a free day out of class. People jokingly (or not) said that they would go outside and record the phenomena, even if it meant getting soaked to the bone in the process.

The second way to feel about stormy weather was one filled with fear. Phobias are typically deemed as irrational fears, but many people shared the same anxiety when it came to thunder and lightning joining as one. The dread of lightning striking down glass, trees, and entire buildings was nothing short of frightening. One's body was always on guard to anticipate the deafening thunder, and always recoiled when they least expected it. The pitch black color that the world took on during a storm was hardly comforting, either, and together the entire ordeal drove many people into hiding out the storm out of pure fear and discomfort.

The third way to feel about dreadful weather was immense dislike or hatred of it in the first place. It was not fear that overtook these people, because the event was not scary enough in their mind to send them into hiding. Rather, storms were usually so loud and disruptive that people under the third category found it to a be a nuisance more than anything else. They saw it as an unnecessary event that prevented them from carrying out their day in the routinely fashion. People like that preferred sunny skies, and longed for the warmth of the blue heavens above to return to them.

Asuhi, by default, fell into the third category. He didn't hate the rain, exactly, but he just hated the way the clouds blocked the sky above him. He hated how he couldn't see the stars shine through in their brilliant oblivion, and there was nothing he could do for them except wait it out. He was saddened by his actions more than anything, as he stared longingly out the window for the storm to end—and for his wondrous stars to glow radiantly once more.

Kyoma, on the other hand, _loved_ weather like this. He adored every part of it. Everything from the roaring thunder, to the mindless rain, and finally back down to the erratic lightning—they all comforted him greatly and drowned out most of his thoughts as he was lost in the rhyme-less beat of their dance. It evoked a sense of artistic inspiration within him, one that he hadn't felt in a long time, and he quickly got to work because of this.

His canvas was landscape this time, and utterly blank as he waited for lightning to strike before he started painting. There was a newfound excitement in his heart, and perhaps it came from the fact that his landscape works were mostly sunny days or windy sunsets—but this time he slathered dark paints onto the canvas, feeling utterly enthralled by the promise of the gloomy paradise that was yet to come. To him, the rain and storm were just as enticing—if not more so—than the sunny days or bright nights. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder and Kyoma's eyes were wild like the storm outside.

But as the hours ticked away, the messy piece was quickly finished, and it was nearly an exact replication of the gray sights that Kyoma could see right out the window. Everything was captured in that singular canvas. The weight of the gloomy clouds, the silver slate sky, and even the awkward angles of lightning were accurately portrayed—right down to the way that they surged through the heavens like blood through veins, and then shot out to the ground with righteous fury.

He sighed, and felt the burden on his shoulders lift up as another project was _finally_ completed. To reward himself, the artist reached into his fridge and grabbed a box of milk, and drank it empty in a manner of seconds. When he was done, he threw it away in one of the many trash cans lying around, and he perched himself by the window sill. He stared out into the dark oblivion that was Mikagura Academy, that which was transformed easily by the treacherous night.

Kyoma felt a part of him yearning for the outside, wanting childishly to run in the rain and be soaked to the bone. He wanted the cold, that _biting_ cold that would leave him breathless and weak. He thought about the wind, the dizzying wind that made dancers out of the trees, and how it would probably make a mess of his hair and his clothes. He wanted that shocking sensation, that overwhelming pulsation, and that numbing experience to overcome him.

He wanted it, because it would mean that he could lose himself entirely, even if just for a if that minute multiplied into more minutes, or _hours_ even, he figured it would not be such a terrible thing. After all, what was a little water going to do to him? Nothing that he hadn't already done to himself. So there would be no consequence in him wandering out there, and feeling _alive_ for once in his life.

He wanted it so badly, and there were many times where he was unable to bring his desires into reality. This time would be different, however.

This time, he would let himself unravel down to the tiniest sliver of himself, until there was nothing left.

Nothing at all.

...

"It's been raining for at least four hours," Yuto complained. Him and some others found themselves inside Asuhi's dorm, because his room was arguably the largest of them all. Of course, even if it was the _smallest_ room on campus, Asuhi was sure that the others would show up at his doorstep, anyway. Luckily for them he was not mean spirited in the least, and actually welcomed the company, big or small.

"You don't like the rain?" Eruna asked, playing with Himi's bow as she laid across her smaller lap. "Are you _scared,_ Akama? Do you need strong girls like us to protect you?"

Himil giggled, and started unwrapping a few candies from her bag. She also slapped Eruna's hands—which got a bit _too_ touchy around her—as punishment for breaking her promise to lay off her usual touchy-feely ways earlier. She looked sad but Himi ignored her theatrics in full. "I think Akamacchi can protect himself!"

'Akamacchi' scoffed as he stretched his legs out as far as they could on the carpet, all whilst leaning the rest of his body against the soft sofa. "It's just rain," He mentioned in a deadpan. "I didn't say I was afraid of it, I just don't _like_ it. The ground's gonna get, like, _so_ slippery and worms come popping out of the soil just because it's wet. It's so gross."

"Rain is usually good for the flowers," Sadamatsu suddenly said from his place next to Himi. He seemed utterly content with the entire situation around him. "But I'm afraid weather like this might...be... _too much,_ even for them for them." The words droned out calmly, and the lilt of his voice was terribly similar to the easy lull of the rain. Only when the downpour intensified, did Sadamatsu's demeanor become even more sedate than usual.

"It's too much for _me,_ " Otone squeaked out, as she was curled up unceremoniously on the bed, hidden under the covers together with an equally afraid Meika Katai. The girls were usually awkward around each other, but fear could bring people together whether they liked it or not. And as a flash of lightning erupted outside the window, accompanied by a din of thunder, Otone and Meika easily decided that they really didn't like this situation.

"I hate the thunder! It-It's loud," Otone said sadly, shrinking underneath the blankets.

Meika whimpered in agreement. "I-It will go away soon, right...?"

"I'm sure it will!" Asuhi decided to join in on the conversation, after having been lost in thought from staring out the rain-streaked window. He walked over to his friends and put on his best, eager smile. "I would be happy if the stars came out again, too."

"Of course, Asuhi loves the stars!" Eruna chirped, lifting herself from Himi's lap. "I'd think they're pretty, too, but not as pretty as Seisa! I bet she's staring out her window in thought right now, sighing whimsically—"

"She's back at her mansion, huh?" Yuto quickly interrupted, seemingly not in the mood for Eruna's fantastical assumptions. The girl didn't seem too particularly disturbed by this interruption though, as she let it continue. Their teasing was a usual back-and-forth ritual that happened most of the time.

Now was one of those times. Yuto spoke again. "Hey, speaking of people that aren't here, where's Shigure? Isn't he usually around you at a time like this?"

Ichinomiya noticed this, and checked her surroundings as if Ninomiya was still hiding somewhere, waiting to jump out and give a big speech about how he would protect Eruna from the rain, or something like that. But he wasn't there at all, which was _odd_ , considering that he always grabbed a chance to be near his cousin. So where was he now?

"Now that you mention it, I have no idea where that dummy is! But Shigure can take care of himself, I'm sure. Him and Enoyan are probably sulking it up somewhere," Eruna said jokingly, a coy grin on her face. "They'll be fine!"

At these words, Asuhi felt something tug at his chest, which gave him a feeling of impotent _dread_. There was no reason for this, but it was something about Eruna's words that gave him doubt. He brought his hands up to his chest, and sighed heavily. What he never found the courage to say, he would repeat internally like an obsessed mantra, until the severity of his heart was too much to bear, and until his tear-rimmed eyes cried out silently.

 _Will_ _they really be okay?_

...

"Kuzuryu?"

A familiar, lilting voice asked away into the darkness. The hallway was unlit, and Shigure was less than eager to grope around in the dark for the light switch. So he counted on the random flashes of lightning to illuminate his path, walking slowly as a result. His voice called out louder this time, in hopes of achieving what would be the attention of the person he wanted most to notice him.

"Kuzuryu, are you there?"

A majority of the students were in their own dorms, presumably, as they waited for the storm to end before continuing about their business. But Shigure figured that Kyoma would be in the art room, as he always was. And since no one else would be there, he also figured it was the perfect chance to talk to him alone.

 _For real_.

Their relationship was strained, like frayed wire on the verge of snapping. Once roommates at Mikagura's sister school, they were the best of friends, before Kyoma started detracting from him, and from the school completely. Really, it was Ninomiya's ignorance to Kyoma's feelings that left a rift between them in the first place. Although it was primarily the fellow students who were to blame, Shigure was no better than them, as he had let Kyoma's feelings become warped without even attempting to console him.

These days, they hardly looked each other in the eye. Their conversations weren't as bare as they used to be, but they still essentially lead to nowhere. Although, since that new girl Rina Uzuki came around, he noticed that the artist was slowly starting to open up, and that break in his heart was _just_ what Shigure needed. Those steel-clad defenses would not fall easily, and any chance they might be down was a chance that Shigure was willing to take.

After all, he was trying his best to patch things up again. Because while he claimed his true love was be Eruna, his first true _friend_ was Kyoma. And even if they were hardly friends _now_ , the sentiment had to mean _something,_ right? All those years couldn't simply go to waste over the things left unsaid. With that resolve, the gray-haired boy sought out to repent for his sins—to reconcile with someone he once held dear.

 _Right,_ the Ninomiya thought to himself in affirmation. _It's the thought that counts._

"I'm coming in there, so you better be ready!" He announced, finally making his way in front of the art room. Kyoma hated intruders, but Shigure hated waiting. He would probably come up with some profuse apology afterwards, and the artist would be forced to accept them in lieu of the situation. With that thought in mind, and without any hesitation in his being, Shigure broke through the art room.

 _Yet no one was there_. The room was empty of living people, and the only familiar faces he saw were those of the art mannequins, which only served to scare him out of his wits. He couldn't even hide the undignified scream of terror that left his mouth.

Feeling quite frustrated by it all, he turned on the lights and checked to see if maybe his artistic friend had fallen asleep somewhere. But as the room lit up, there were no signs of the artist in question, and the only evidence that he was ever there at all laid within the newly finished painting in the middle of the room. The sign of life was found in the still-wet splatters of paint on the floor, and in the barely-dry brush strokes on the canvas.

With attentive steps (so as not to accidentally ruin his shoes in the paint), Shigure moved forward to inspect the scene. He found something strange, but thought provoking all the same. The canvas was a glimpse into another world, but the world in front of him looked just like the storm outside. The colors were muted, dull, and monotonous—which only helped to emphasize the streaks of yellow color for thunderbolts, and something else that lay presented in the shockingly pretty frame.

An orange, human-shaped blob lay at the bottom, which was so small in comparison to the clouds it looked like the poor soul was getting eaten alive by the storm itself. Not to mention the grief he would feel as the storm devoured him inside and out. No doubt the water would half-drown him, and the wild winds would whip him around like cream in a bowl. The sporadic lightning would electrify him, and if he was truly unlucky then the thunder would deafen him, too. That small, orange blob was in great danger, indeed.

Still, it was a beautiful painting nonetheless. With the inspiration for it being so close outside, it was something seen as normal at the time. Shigure was naturally inquisitive though, and followed this investigation the rest of the way with his eyes only. Gray irises moved curiously from the painting to the window, and the accompanying black pupils widened at what they found.

The window in the art room was slightly ajar, barely on its hinges as water and wind leaked through the side. There, the faint smell of rain and paint fumes wafted in, with gray and orange smears left on the side as evidence. There were finger-like marks and bits of a shoeprint, as well, all of which lead to one singular conclusion.

Someone had left through this window. Someone had ran out of the room, and made way for the disastrous storm outside. Someone had abandoned the painting upon its completion, and headed into the scene that its image was based upon. He should have been more worried than this, and maybe was. All Shigure could think about in that moment was Kyoma, and how no matter how cold his friend's heart had become, it was _no match_ for the cold that was waiting for him outside.

None at all.

* * *

 **For days, the sunlight disappeared,**

 **and the world was drowned in** _ **rain.**_


	2. Poseidon

**Poseidon saw the endless deluge,**

 **and delighted in the never-ending** _ **rain.**_

* * *

The rain continued on into the night without fail. Various power outages occurred in between each other, and a quiet murmur of candlelight revealed itself within the school. Weather stations of the nearby area had pegged it all as a freak storm occurrence, and that it was expected to have cleared up by the morning. With that thought in mind, the students of Mikagura Academy started retiring for the night, in light of the classes they would surely have tomorrow.

One by one, Asuhi's friends showed themselves out of his room. It started with Otone and Meika, who were terrified of the storm and couldn't hold back their fear any longer. When continuous thunder rolled like fireworks going off in quick succession, it was the perfect excuse for the two of them to bolt upright, and run out of Asuhi's dorm while screaming over each other frantically. Himi—as Meika's senior and role model—decided to follow after her to make sure that she and Otone didn't get into any trouble thereafter.

The flower-arranger, more subdued than usual with Himi's absence in place, decided it would be wise for him to leave at once. His emerald eyes were alight with a strange sadness, such that his irises seemed to glow with a forlorn energy. Asuhi was worried, but ultimately kept his voice down as Sadamatsu said a few polite words to him in his leave. He gave him a friendly smile before walking out of the room, with unexpected (or was it entirely expected?) grace in his step.

Then, Eruna hugged Asuhi—saying that they should definitely hang out again tomorrow—and smiled into his shoulder during their embrace. She wasted no time bounding out the room, humming playfully to herself. Then she paused in abject wonder, realizing something quite terrible. She wasn't able to see Seisa today! The storm separated the campus dorms from the Academy's main building—the large mansion-like estate where the granddaughter of the Headmistress slept like a princess in silk sheets. Oh, if only Ichinomiya could join her, or at the very least see her angelic face before going off to sleep.

Eruna frowned. "G'night, Asuhi." She called out dejectedly, sluggishly dragging her feet along down the hall.

That left Asuhi alone with Yuto, but the latter seemed quite tired, much to Asuhi's surprise. He always thought the older boy was more of a night owl than this. And maybe he _was,_ but even nocturnal creatures could agree that there was something sleep-inducing about the darkness of the night. Yuuto's arms stretched out in angular manner, and his body contorted in the most limber way possible. The younger boy almost laughed out loud at the idea of how _cat-like_ the older boy could be. He held his giddiness together, though.

"I should head out, too," He finally said, hazel eyes flicking in Asuhi's direction. "You'll be okay, right?"

"I'll be fine," Asuhi insisted, smiling softly. "Don't worry about me. See you tomorrow, Akama!"

Yuto grinned, and ruffled Asuhi's hair with his hand before leaving. There was a sort of affection in his touch, one that wasn't usually there before. It made Asuhi's shoulders tense up for some reason, but they relaxed underneath his soft caress soon enough. Yuto laughed in spite of himself.

"See you tomorrow."

And soon after that, Asuhi was alone in his room again. The noise was once overbearing, to the point that he was sure the student disciplinary council would come down hard on them for how rowdy they were at night. But now everything was utterly quiet, and it was as if no one had come to his room to begin with. Only the scent of floral candles (courtesy of Sadamatsu) lingered in the air, and stayed as a singular reminder of the life that had once convened there.

By tomorrow, the same rambunctious crowd would reappear again, and his heart would soar out of happiness once more. Until then, though, he was left to his own devices, and as such he naturally gravitated towards the window where he could watch the storm unfurl its fury in full. The dark expanse was looming and strangely enticing, such that Asuhi vaguely wondered what it would have felt like if he wandered out in the deluge like other braver souls had done before him.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning hit, and the spontaneous brightness caused Asuhi to jump. He could see the outside world clearly, if only for a few seconds. And in those short seconds he could also see the outline of a _person_ in the distance—a tall, _blond_ person. His mind immediately went to thoughts of Kyoma, and how he had not seen him all day. Not even in passing, when normally they would at least cross paths in the crowded halls. So what was Kyoma doing out in the storm of all places? Asuhi thought of the disparate _cold_ out there, and how the older student must have been soaked to the _bone._ No, further than that, Kyoma was soaked all the way down to his bone _marrow._ The storm was a furious onslaught of rain and wind that would not let up for anyone.

 _Not even Kyoma,_ Asuhi thought. Not even the one person in all of Mikagura who's own heart could match the storm's in terms of unlawfulness—not the one who struck fear in other students with a simple, solemn gaze of his crimson eyes. Yet the outside was a cruel, cruel world, and there was no telling what it would do to a person who had his fair share of cruelty in life. Even if the artist knew what he was doing, the storm was unpredictable and unforgiving—it would leave him as nothing more than a colorful blur in the gray myriad.

He had to do something. Asuhi's heart beat erratically in his chest, screaming against the righteous fury buzzing through his veins just now. Impulsively, Imizu grabbed a jacket and an umbrella (one that he didn't remember owning but figured it was Otone's or Eruna's and was left behind), and bolted out the door of his room in the greatest hastiness yet. Before soon, he crashed through the doors of the building, and simple thoughts reverberated in his mind as he did so.

 _I have to bring him back._

 _I just have to._

 _..._

It was hard to think when all Kyoma heard was the pounding rain and rushing blood in his ears. It was as if millions of glass shards shattered around him. The rain was dropping, falling, and _deafening_ in every way possible. The ice water struck his skin like needles, and each pinprick sent a shiver of wondrous sensation up his spine and through his shoulders. The rain was his rhyme-less hymn and his thoughtless song. It was the numbing sensation, the unreasonable desire, and the overwhelming pulsation that rang weakly in the thralls of his heart.

It was quite nice.

Also nice was the _liberation_ he felt when his clothes were soaked so thoroughly that all he felt on his body was the chilling cold. He could not discern the sensation of cloth from the weight of water, nor the flashes of lightning from the brightness in his mind. It felt like one outer layer of skin that he was always meant to wear, even if his skin itself screamed out with each drop of freezing water—even when his ears rang for mercy from the noisy storm.

These feelings were crisp and _raw_. His heart leaped and soared as it tried to pump blood through the senseless muscles, those which burned profusely with each erratic movement he made. His heartbeat was so fast and strong that, it could match the thunderous rhythm of the sky above him—if not outclass the noise itself entirely. And the wind whipped at him from all sides, upsetting his balance and his warmth, toppling him over at some points only to knock over him again when he tried to get a foothold on the slippery ground.

By the time Kyoma could stand upright, he felt giddy and invigorated all at once. His bones ached back and forth with discomfort, but he ignored their cries as he continued on in his strange journey outward.

He had guessed at how running in the storm would feel like, but whatever his imagination brought earlier _paled_ in comparison to the real thing. He felt so _alive._ His eyes were clouded with exhaustion, sickness, and ice, but they were still brimming with an unbridled emotion that he didn't even know what to call. His hair was flattened and his clothes were loose, drenched in water and losing their trademark paint stains.

It erased any struggle, any pain, and any evidence of strife on his person. It washed him anew, like a cloth drenched in blood at a riverside.

It gave him the smallest chance of hope in his life full of despair.

...

Asuhi jumped as a crackle of lightning struck just some yards ahead of him. He had never seen bolts so close up before, but knowing their unpredictability like he did made him decide that it was better to steer clear. Even in the tumultuous conditions, there was no telling what the rest of the natural force would do to him. And he knew that it wouldn't help Kyoma in the very least if the person trying to help him burned to a crisp on the way there.

The thought of such a thing made him shudder along with the cold. But Asuhi figured he was better off than Kyoma, because unlike the artist, the astronomer-in-training had garnered a raincoat and umbrella before setting out. He had _some_ veritable protection against the storm, which beckoned and called out to the students like a lazy temptress.

Yet the second he stepped out of the dorm building, Asuhi almost wished that he stayed. The wind slashed at him immediately, and he felt his balance threaten to fall over. The rain that made contact with him felt like ice water, and caused him to shiver involuntarily. When all these things hit him at once, the only thing his mind could think of forming was insipid, little questions that did nothing but worry him further.

He thought about Kuzuryu. What _was_ he doing out here, to begin with? Imizu thought that maybe the other got caught in the storm, but who would take this long to get out of the rain, if they wanted to? Who would keep going at this rate when there was much dryer, warmer shelter inside waiting for them?

With that in mind, it could only mean that Kyoma was out there _voluntarily_ , and that he _wanted_ to be caught in ice, water, and wind. He _wanted_ the lightning and thunder to strike so close to him; he _wanted_ the cold, sickness, and cruelty to cut him to the bone, until he couldn't feel anything anymore. He wanted this from the start.

But what if Kuzuryuu wasn't actually out there, and Asuhi was just searching for a nameless ghost? What if this was the most useless escapade in the history of escapades? What if the only things that came out of this whole experience was a nasty flu and a new dislike for the rain? More and more questions like that popped up in the boy's mind, but he kept it to himself in a frenzied motion. With a silent and strong disposition, Asuhi held on tight as he teetered left and right in the dragging wind. He grasped on tightly to the handle of the umbrella, which threatened to break off at any given moment.

In the distance, where in the small part of darkness his eyes could see, he spotted something moving. They were slow and uneasy movements, but Asuhi hoped that it was Kuzuryu he was seeing, nonetheless. The closer he got, however, the more he realized that it was starting to look less like Kyoma, and more like a tree. When he got up close to it, he could see the shivering branches and the helpless leaves flying off in disarray.

 _I can't believe I mistook a tree for him._ Asuhi thought embarrassingly. He grit his teeth, and started searching elsewhere.

In the roaring weather, Asuhi remembered little, especially about how he managed to weave in and out of the flooding black top. And not to mention how he kept on moving through the slough of it all, even after the wind had torn at the umbrella by ripping holes in the top and rendering it useless. At some point Asuhi discarded it, but that action was just as forgettable as the next.

It was like a dream where, after blinking, the boy would find himself in a totally different scene than the one he was just in before. He called out for Kyoma one moment, and in the next moment he found himself being thrashed along the storm's whimsy.

Eventually, Asuhi ended up finding Kyoma once and for all, and became worried and relieved in the same turn. He was relieved to know that his fellow student was actually out there, and that he was not spending all of this time wandering like a ghost for nothing. But he was worried for the same reason, because Kyoma _was actually_ out there, and strangely enough he seemed to be enjoying himself.

The older boy didn't even have a jacket over him. Instead, he wore his usual school attire, which was not nearly protective enough for a storm of this caliber. His eyes were so, _so_ tired looking, that Asuhi felt a wave of pity swell up inside of him and crash like the waves at the shore. There were blotches of Kyoma's skin that appeared bluish and sickly, and if Asuhi didn't hurry up, he supposed the other would start catching things that were worse than colds.

"Kuzuryu," Asuhi called out. "Please, come back inside."

"You," he replied, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and cold. "It's _you_. Why do _you_ care?"

"Because, if you get sick from being out here, that would be t-t-terrible!" The boy sneezed, nearly sucking the fluids back in because of the wind. He flailed around in distress, wiping at the water that was slapping him in the face. Luckily Kyoma didn't seem to judge him for this particularly nasty moment, but maybe it was just because he was hardly aware of anything to begin with.

"Would it be that bad, though?" Kyoma rebutted, arms shaking more visibly. "I'm j-just fine, so go back inside, Imizu."

Asuhi faltered. _He knows my name,_ his thoughts echoed immediately. It was better than being called a "Girly Rookie" like before, and it was _much_ better than Kyoma glaring at him silently and calling him " _you"_ like the last time they bumped into each other. But still, Imizu was a bit flattered that the other remembered his name, and in such a confusing situation, too.

He supposed he could gush over it later, when they were back inside the building—where it would be warm and dry and nothing like the outside. There they could converse all they liked, and they could let the sloughs of the storm shrug off their shoulders in much needed reprieve. He just had to get Kyoma to go inside with him, and he would do it even if it meant he had to _drag him._

"Y-You're turning _blue,_ Kuzuryu. Please just come back with m-me. Please, I mean...do you even realize how cold it is out here? You're not even wearing a jacket o-over your uniform."

At his plea, Kyoma looked down, and noticed his loose, soaking wet uniform, clean of paint but covered in windswept leaves and the occasional mud spots.

Just like that, the invigoration he felt earlier had started to fade, and he felt a freezing, biting sensation surge throughout his limbs. Taking notice of just how badly ruined he was made his voice crack and his legs shake. His teeth chattered, too, and the usual crimson eyes were dulled down to something so subdue that he hardly looked like the same person anymore. This Kyoma was far too reserved and fragile than how he typically was—maybe he had been replaced by the heart of the storm without knowing it. It was a strained effort to try and keep upright, and noticing Asuhi's torn umbrella and equally torn expression convinced him that it would probably be wiser to return to the dorms. It was for their health, if nothing else.

"F-Fine, okay..."

He dared not to say anymore, for his tongue began twisting on him, and his teeth wouldn't stop clicking against each other in hurried, frenzied chatters. Asuhi seemed to understand all of this just by looking at him, though, and was silently relieved at the older boy's cooperation. He started back for the dorm building, with an unbelievably tired upperclassman following after him in a slow march.

It seemed like hours until the two of them finally crashed through the doors of the building, feeling instant but minimal warmth greet them as they nearly collapsed inside. Asuhi took deep breaths, and slammed the doors shut as tightly as he could, hoping that the flooded waters would not find their way into the halls. He looked towards Kyoma, and realized that he could hardly see him at all.

It was because it was dark in there. The hallways were already dark before, but something told Asuhi that the power must have gone out again, since he had floundered for the light switch but nothing happened when he fiddled around with it. The only source of light they had now was from the occasional flash of lightning from outside, which was not very reliable at all.

"D-Do you know your way back to your dorm from here?" The younger boy whispered coarsely, falling into a small coughing fit afterwards.

The older boy shivered and clutched at his sides with achy hands. He shook his head, which let loose some water from his damp hair in the process.

"No..."

"Then come with me." After saying that, Asuhi instantly felt his face burn up, and lamented at the thought that he had possibly caught a cold. Or worse, that he said something that might have been far too forward for the other's taste. But Kyoma's state was more important (and more damaged) in that moment, so he repeated himself for the his sake if nothing else.

"Come with me, please."

He half expected Kyoma to bark at him, or even laugh at his pathetic attempts to try and become some make believe hero in the moment. But Kyoma did neither of those things, and instead he lowered his head, eyes glossy and body trembling with fear and uncertainty. While he was so much taller than Asuhi, he seemed smaller in this state where he was hunched over and pained with ice—body shivering and seizing up underneath the bitterness of it all.

He obeyed. "S-Sure..."

"Okay, don't worry. I have a heater in my room and some blankets..."

With an unsteady hand in the dark, he felt around for the other, until he found the edge of Kyoma's sleeve, which was sopping wet and coming apart. He grabbed it firmly enough that he could tug the other around, and hopefully he'd be able to lead him safely down the halls. Wasting no more time, Asuhi gave a small pull at the other's sleeve, and started walking with Kyoma towards his dorm.

Despite their situation, Asuhi didn't find this strange at all. Even if he was practically inviting the other into his room, it didn't feel invasive or unwarranted like it should have. Maybe it was the storm that rattled his brain, but he couldn't see why he should leave Kyoma to his own devices. Surely the senior student was old enough and good enough to take care of himself, but even the most independent souls needed guidance once in a while.

It was strange that Asuhi, a rather dependent boy himself, would be the one to do so. It was all so new and exciting to him, such that his heart started up again in rapid fire beating. Looking back at the other, Asuhi noticed that Kyoma's face was half-lit from the lightning outside. But he could still see that the older student was entirely embarrassed, confused, and numbed by the situation around him. There was a cesspool of emotions swirling in his blood-colored eyes, and Asuhi was not perceptive enough to sort through them all. But he didn't blame the other at all, because being in a storm as long as him would surely do something to one's clarity and logic.

Today was just one of those days were so many things happened at once, yet it felt like nothing was happening at all. And the two males paused in front of Asuhi's dorm, silently hesitating as they both seemed to wonder if it was okay to do what they were doing. _It's the storm,_ Asuhi reasoned with himself. _I would probably never be brave enough to invite him in otherwise._

Even as his hand tightened around Kyoma's sleeve, and their fingers brushed against each other, he kept telling himself that. Even as he opened the door and invited Kyoma inside, he kept saying it in his head.

 _It's the storm,_ he repeated. _It's the storm._

* * *

 **If he had his way,**

 **he would make it rain** _ **forever.**_


	3. Helios

**Helios, sealed and enraged,**

 **let the fury of sunlight burn** _ **vapidly.**_

* * *

Asuhi felt himself running on adrenaline, the energy from earlier which he drew from became nothing more than a culmination of his exhaustion and his efforts. In the end, only a tiny bit of logic and perception remained in his mind.

The storm and the situation had rattled his sensibility, but he held onto bare remnants of consciousness in order to accommodate himself and Kuzuryu.

Kyoma stumbled along like a drunken person, but it was neither alcohol nor tobacco that held him back—just sickness and cold, instead. The slow roll of water drops was audible, and they dragged on like large drum beats that echoed and echoed like a desolate song. The _drip, drip, drips_ of water made Asuhi's room seem like an underwater cavern, until the illusion was broken by the occasional and obstinate flash of lightning from outside.

Imizu scrambled for blankets in his closet, and as he passed by the thermostat he turned up the heat carefully to make sure that his room was warm, but not steaming. Even then, it would be a few minutes until the changes in temperature kicked in, so in the meantime him and Kuzuryu would be locked in a period of cold, lukewarm sentiment that was present in the stale room.

The older student nearly collapsed on the couch, and the younger of the two figured that it was a good place for him to collapse on. He was grateful because he could just dump the blankets onto the couch, and his heart would relax itself when he watched the older boy grasp at them weakly. Then he reached forward, and did his best to secure the blankets around the other's body. At the fleeting sensation of his fingers brushing against skin, the older one of the two seemed to fly into a short frenzy, gasping and sputtering weakly at the contact.

Anxiety gripped Asuhi's heart, and he hoped desperately that it couldn't be heard over the storm outside. "K-Kuzuryu," he barely stuttered. "Just r-rest now, okay? You'll be fine, I promise…"

"I-I—" Kyoma cut himself off as his breath morphed into a series of hard, painful coughs. As he upheaved, Asuhi could make out his pathetic shape in the dark, and the lightning that illuminated the room revealed the injuries that lay underneath.

The blue parts of Kyoma's skin were more visible, and they lined his cheeks, arms, and legs like scars. They were like beautiful yet terrifying marks that ran across his body, making him shiver and recoil in pain as if they were violet scales protruding from his golden skin, instead. The centers of the bruises were discolored further than that, as they were transformed into a disgusting mix of black and green shades that told bitter stories about stones and concrete—his collisions with the ground and other objects were the cause for such bruises in the first place. He was spiritually and mentally liberated in the storm, but his physicality paid the price.

Just as Asuhi feared it would. Not to mention the smaller, less distinctive cuts and scrapes that decorated the spaces in between the bruises. There was a noticeable streak across Kyoma's face that was neither paint nor water. It was blood, both of the dried up and wet variety, and beneath it was a thin opening that exposed Kyoma and weakened him to the world outside.

Aushi was hardly a student, let alone a doctor. But he knew that once the storm passed, he could take Kyoma to the school nurse, at the very least. Until then, they would both have to settle for his limited skill with a first aid kit. The best he could do at the moment was put on some bandaids, apply some disinfectant on the cuts, and hope for the best.

It was a slow process, one where Asuhi felt the minutes tick by and slide through his fingers, until they crashed onto each other and formed into heavy hours. In all of those hours, neither of them really spoke, and the soft rise-and-fall of the blanket heap indicated that Kyoma had fallen asleep at some point. For that, Asuhi was grateful, and spared himself a small smile. When he did everything that he possibly could, Imizu stumbled back into his own bed, and climbed under the covers.

He was still fully dressed in his uniform—in clothes that were gradually dampened from the oncoming rain from outside. At some point during the search, the umbrella Asuhi used had broken apart, and he was defenseless as rain and sleet poured down on him in merciless showers. Asuhi learned this experience first hand, and figured that he was neither better nor worse for it.

He was just glad that, after some time, he was able to bring Kyoma back from the oblivion he had wandered out to. And once they rested, then they could sort things out in the morning and everything would go back to normal.

Or, everything would _seem_ to go back to normal. Despite being dead tired, Asuhi still had time to rise from his bed carefully, and glance one last time in Kyoma's direction. He could hardly see him from his position in the dark, but the gently moving mass of blankets on the couch indicated Kuzuryu's quiet breathing and _sleep,_ something which Asuhi assumed he never got enough of.

The feeling was strange. Something heavy stirred in his chest, but he could not quite place it. Asuhi could also not explain why he had suddenly become fixated on Kyoma, but at the very least, he could blame this whole situation on his own kindness, and the cruelty of the unusual storm outside. Feeling content, Asuhi fell back onto his bed, and buried himself in his pillows and his sheets.

Within seconds, he was asleep as well, and the riveting night pulsed into a lulling rhythm—the once-tiring rainstorm transformed into a now-soothing drizzle. And by morning, the rain would disappear completely, leaving sunny wind behind in its place. There would be no evidence of a near catastrophe having took place, except for the drenched sidewalks and the canceled classes. There would be no sign of a struggle, and no sign of a fight that happened between Kyoma and the storm—one that resulted in the storm winning and running away by leagues.

There was nothing left but the dark morning, with its overwhelming scent of petrichor, and the subdued life within the concrete's boundaries. There would be the aftermath of the storm, of course, in which the students and faculty would be given a day of reprieve in order to recover from the storm's repercussions. And with these understandings taking place, the entire school fell into a loud but quiet chorus of agreement over the morning's fate.

The only noise that came from Asuhi's dorm, however, was a chorus of snores that softly drifted out through the cracks in the door...

* * *

 **And Helios cried out from the abyss,**

" **Let the rain be no more!"**


	4. Asclepius

**To heal the wounds of the survivors,**

 **Asclepius descended on the** _ **earth.**_

* * *

Asuhi opened his eyes and was immediately unfamiliar with his surroundings. Strange to think that nothing seemed right, when he was the one that arranged them there to begin with. It was _his_ room, yet he felt like he had never been in this place once in his life. The fixtures of his dorm—his posters, books, and desk—seemed unlike his, and the air was thick with static and heavy with anxiety.

It took him a minute or so, but Asuhi eventually sat up. He felt sluggish and the clothes on his body were still damp from the rain water. A small groan of exasperation escaped him, and he struggled to lift the comforter off of himself. His eyes found solace in a sunny spot, however. A small gap in his curtains let a sunbeam pour in, one that was colored a faded yellow-gray. Asuhi gazed upon the daylight, and let out a deep breath as he brought himself back to reality.

And when it hit him that _yes,_ this was reality, he almost screamed. He jumped up from his bed and scrambled to the couch, checking to see if the third year was still there or if it was just a dream. He would be surprised either way, because it either meant that he was dreaming the entire time, or that he really had invited the older student to stay in his room, which seemed dream-like all on its own.

Asuhi gawked at seeing Kyoma's sleeping form in full. It was still hard to observe in its entirety, but the sunlight that managed its way into the room helped Asuhi to see more clearly. And Kyoma Kuzuryu, he decided, was quite _tranquil_ in his sleep. His long-lashed eyes were closed, casting dim shadows over the rest of his face. The trademark paint marks on his face, clothes, and arms were completely washed off, with only the fading remnants of a colorful star visible on his right cheek.

There were slight, circular shades of violet beneath Kuzuryuu's lower lashes, and Imizu wondered if those were gained from the storm, or if the third-year just had a hard time sleeping at night. Either way it was not too pleasant, so he could only hope the several hours of rest they gained was enough to curb the exhaustion in his face. Gingerly, the boy reached out to touch the other's shoulder, but retreated in the same motion. _He can rest for a bit longer,_ he thought kindly, _in the meantime I'll go get dressed._

He rummaged through his drawers to find a clean, dry version of the uniform he was still wearing. While he would have had no trouble stripping off his clothes in his own dorm, Kyoma's presence made him bashful and as a result, Asuhi nearly tripped over himself on the way to the en suite bathroom.

He shut the door as quietly as possible and began fixing himself up. The dirty clothes were peeled off his skin, making gentle sloshing noises as they collapsed on the tile floor. Following that was the sound of towels rubbing dry any part of his body that was still wet from the storm water. Then he placed his new clothes on, fixing and adjusting the tie, lapel, and jacket in smooth, sweet motions.

Imizu stared at his reflection for a few moments before fixing his hair and brushing his teeth. And after spraying some of his favorite cologne (floral smelling cologne, much to others' dismay—they claimed it was "girly" but he felt that being clean was not limited to females only) onto himself, he deemed himself presentable and headed back out into his room so as to stir Kyoma awake.

However, the third year was already rousing himself from sleep, and he sat up on the couch while stretching his arms. Hearing a few satisfying _pops,_ Kyoma sighed out with relief as he hunched over on his knees and buried his face in his hands. "Ugh," he had begun to say. "I feel awful." His voice was still clogged by morning sickness and icy bitterness, and he covered his mouth when his dry throat started up his coughing again.

Asuhi gulped. It was now or never. "Good morning, Kuzuryu," he greeted respectfully, bowing his head down as low as it could go towards the upperclassman. The blond seemed unaffected by this, which was better than him reacting negatively in all aspects.

He simply replied: "Morning."

"Um, how do you feel? A little better, r-right?" Asuhi couldn't help but stumble in the other's presence. Even when Kyoma was sick and sitting down on his couch, for some reason Asuhi felt like _he_ was being looked down on. The vulnerable look in the artist's eyes from the previous night had disappeared completely, and he continued on with that callous stare that made Asuhi feel paper thin and just as breakable.

Luckily, Kyoma was sedate in this moment, and gently looked away from the other's timid gaze. "Sort of," he replied. "I feel like shit. And I—" he interrupted himself with sudden, violent coughs that made him groan tiredly as a result— "am sick as all hell. Ugh," he muttered, seemingly embarrassed about something that Asuhi couldn't figure out what.

Still, he tried to be of some help. "I was thinking that you should see the nurse," he murmured, looking down at his own two feet. "Y-You must be in pain and...I'm not a doctor so I can't help."

"You're not a doctor," Kyoma agreed. "But that's okay. Listen, I—" more coughs appeared, and this time the older student stood to his feet to better get a hold of himself. Asuhi backed up instinctively, a bit intimidated by the sheer height that the other suddenly had on him. There was an obvious difference—seven inches or seventeen centimeters, however one would like to look at it—in their height from his estimated perspective, and the thought of it made him self-conscious with his slow growth at his age.

It was just another thing that Asuhi was inferior with when it came to others. But this biting insecurity was nothing new to him, and he tried to reassure himself that Kyoma didn't care about how short he was, either. His eyes, for one, seemed fixated on something else entirely, and the dull crimson color was barely different from the disparate shade of red it took on the previous night. The artist faltered.

"Let's go, please," Kyoma muttered. "I-I think I might fall over."

The word _please_ was not something that people thought Kyoma was capable of saying. His rough mannerism and way of speaking always drove others away, and always made him seem capricious or harsh in their eyes. But the way he almost pleaded with the younger student just now made him appear otherwise.

It made him look _soft,_ and Asuhi wasn't quite sure if he was comfortable with that or not. Was this Kuzuryuu's true nature, he wondered? Or was the male feigning niceties just now, or forced to make them due to his strenuous condition? Either way he relied on Asuhi for the time being, just as he did last night, and didn't seem particularly miffed about the situation in the least. Rather, Asuhi got the feeling that Kyoma sort of _liked_ this arrangement—and maybe he had been relying on himself for far too long now.

And Asuhi, in turn, had been relying on others a little _too much_. He had been wishing on the stars he constantly stared at, and only one of his desires ever came true. But as he stood there—helping the third year student walk along his room—he saw that another one of his dreams was being realized right in front of his eyes.

A brand new bit of courage took him over, and he smiled softly as he guided Kyoma out of his room. When they entered the hall, they could see that it was empty except for the occasional straggler or janitor, and the pathway to the school infirmary would be clear and concise. He breathed out a sigh of relief, and brought the other in tow as he walked forward—one hand delicately grasping onto the end of Kyoma's sleeve, the other dangling loosely at his side.

The thunder had disappeared but there was still a drumming inside his chest. And their fingertips brushed against each other once more, forming just a _small_ spark of electricity that was cruelly similar to the lightning that struck the earth last night.

 _Oh,_ Asuhi thought. _I wonder what this feeling is…?_

 _..._

The school nurse was quite shocked to see Kyoma in the state he was, and asked if he had happened to get into a fight with another student yesterday. The inquiry shocked both of the males present. Asuhi was surprised because he _also_ heard rumors that Kyoma was a delinquent that picked fights with other students. Kyoma was surprised because, obviously, he had never thrown a singular punch in his life, not even when he suffered at the hands of his fellow "students".

(But that was different. That was not a memory made at Mikagura Academy. That was a faraway insult that still stung him icily to this day. He had to bite down on his lip and prevent saying something out of turn. _God,_ he thought to himself. _What's with all the adults in this world? Why are they all like this?_ )

"No," he answered curtly. "I got caught in the storm, that's all."

"Oh." the nurse was sheepish at her brash assumption, and tried to play it off as something insignificant. She had the boy sit down on one of the beds while she brought out some medicine to further heal him. "This will help with the pain. I can take care of your injuries without a problem." She, like everyone else at the school, had a special ability that manifested itself freely within the academy's boundaries. Related to a certain occupation or club, the school nurse was one whose power was to— _obviously_ —heal wounds or any sickness that the students or faculty members contracted. While her ability was not complete, she compensated any gaps in her power with normal, over-the-counter medicine.

Such as the kind she insisted Kyoma take, and he stared at the bottle of medicine hesitantly. She poured his amount needed into a cup, and nudged it in his direction. "It's okay," she said teasingly. "I'm not going to poison you!"

"That's not what I was worried about," he resisted giving into her taunts, even if he felt his blood boil beneath the surface of his own skin. "I was just...checking." He took his medicine, and shivered at the bitter taste. Asuhi smiled sympathetically—he knew that feeling well and hated it just as much—and looked between the patient and the nurse.

"He'll be okay, right?"

"Oh, Imizu, I nearly forgot you were there! Yes, he'll be fine. After I patch him up he should be good to go...but I recommend avoiding any activities that could overwork him. I see those dark circles and bruises all over you." she pointed to his eyes and then to several bruise marks on his exposed arm with a disappointed look on her face. "And I don't like them. So to make sure that _those_ don't get worse, you're not to go to class for a while, Kuzuryu."

She glanced between the two students, and muttered underneath her breath: " _It's not as if you go to class anyway, from what I hear._ "

"Fine by me," Kyoma murmured. Whether he heard her biting comments or not, he didn't seem to care. Then he added on: "As long as I can still paint, then I'll be fine."

"There you have it, then." The nurse took out a bandage from her pocket, and placed it over the small cut on Kyoma's face. " _Healing Touch,_ " she whispered underneath her breath, bringing her ability to life with the hushed sound of her voice.

Immediately, the bandage on Kyoma's face began to glow with a bright, green light, and the light spread from the bandage to his entire body. It enveloped him in an earthy aura of light magic, and he closed his eyes as the healing washed over him like water in a stream.

When it ended, the glowing stopped, and Asuhi could see the effects take place immediately. The various bruises and cuts that once decorated Kyoma like ornaments in a tree disappeared soundly—as well as the remnants of dried blood and pinched skin. Only faded lines remained where the worst of it was, and even then they were starting to go away in their entirety. The dark circles underneath Kyoma's eyes reduced heavily, and the exhausting violet color faded into something light lavender and hardly noticeable.

Imizu held his breath at the display. It was so beautiful, that nurse's ability, and so benevolent in nature. She seemed impressed with her own work, and wrote some things down on a clipboard before speaking. "You're good to go, Kuzuryu. Lucky for the two of you that classes were cancelled today, otherwise I'd have to write Imizu up for being late."

Teal eyes widened in awe, and their owner was equally amazed. "Classes were cancelled? Really?"

She looked at him with a strange look in her eyes. "Yes, of course. Why are you so surprised? You know what time it is, don't you?"

Asuhi looked to Kyoma who was equally baffled, but then shook his head. "No, but it's early, right? Still morning?"

"Oh, boys," she sighed. "It's already eleven o'clock! Classes start at seven and you know it. The storm was so wild that the Headmistress said it was okay for everyone to take the day off." She eyed them warily, then asked: "Why don't you know this? Don't tell me you were sleeping in this whole time!"

And even though Kyoma and Asuhi had no time to come up with a veritable answer, they were completely in sync when they responded to her. "We weren't," they said, lying through the pearly whites of their teeth.

 _We weren't._

 _..._

The two of them parted ways after that, with Kyoma being much more eager to break contact than Asuhi had hoped he would be. They barely managed to say some farewell words before the older student disappeared down the hallway, melding into the usual traffic of students that appeared there.

When the younger boy could no longer see him, he turned on his own heels and headed back to his room. He left his phone in his dresser, he realized, and without it he would be left in the dark about the school's news and activities—he might even be missing a text from Eruna or Yuto! The thought of it made him blush, and he desperately hoped that they weren't blowing his phone up as he pondered it.

Yet of course, as he entered his room he could hear soft vibrations of his phone in the distance, going off like he set a world record or created a viral video earlier in the week. Having done neither of the things in question, he simply took out his phone and checked his messages.

Ten were from Yuto, five were from Eruna, and two were from the academy's messaging and news broadcasting system. They were certainly from Haruka Toishi, the representative of the Broadcasting Club who was in charge of the school's communication system when it came to small things like this. _"Classes cancelled for today,_ " her messages read, _"due to inclement weather. Schedules are to resume normally tomorrow._ "

Dismissing the knowledge he already garnered from the school nurse, Asuhi read Yuto's messages, next. They were vibrant texts that asked him to hang out and text him back "ASAP". Sadly a majority of those texts were sent two to three hours ago, and Asuhi never had the chance to respond promptly. He hurriedly mustered a reply—an apology no doubt—and said that he would meet him during lunchtime.

Finally, Eruna's texts were more casual, wishing him a good morning and asking him if she left her umbrella in his dorm. He stuttered reading it aloud to himself, because he wasn't sure how to tell Eruna that he ruined her umbrella completely, throwing the skeleton of its broken wires into a nearby trash can in the storm last night. Instead, he simply said that he didn't see it, but he hoped that she had quite the good morning, as well.

With his business sorted out, Asuhi was ready to start his day. He had his phone, his backpack, and his telescope ready to go. He stared at himself in the length of the mirror in his room, and wondered if he was changing in a way that he couldn't see. He hoped so, because his eyes were the same starry-blue, and his hair was still dyed like the milky twilight. His height remained ever so short, and his frame was thin and demure in the strangest of ways—if he was to remain static in his physicality, he hoped that at least some part of his mentality or emotionality was changing in return.

But that must have been the case, for he felt a current of bravery run through him—he felt the aftereffects of goodwill and righteousness from last night's events ring strongly through today, like the chimes of a bell that rang throughout the air endlessly.

When his phone buzzed, he realized that it was from Haruka Toishi again, and it was addressed to all students. " _Lunch social in the cafeteria today,"_ it read. " _All first years please attend! This is not an optional event!"_

Imizu blinked, wondering if he ought to bother himself with this gathering. While he was no stranger to the Academy's various social activities and club parties, he knew that he was nothing short of shy, and intermingling with people beyond his social capacity was extremely tiring. But there was nothing else he had to do for the day, and the night had not fallen yet so he didn't have the excuse of going stargazing.

With those facts piled on top of each other, Asuhi decided that he should attend this little social event, and see what madness would come out of it. That resolve burned his stomach as he marched on to the cafeteria, and the whole way there he only thought of a single person, much to his dismay.

Similar to the Rookie Tournament at the beginning of the year, Mikagura Academy occasionally had events where first years would pair up with second or third years, and the duo would teach other new battle techniques and square off in a doubles competition. The lunch social was a good excuse to inform all the first years about it, and while most of them were completely excited about it, Asuhi was devastated.

It seemed that all the older students he knew were getting paired off in one way or another. Yuto seemed apologetic as he already let himself be paired with Usamaru, the latter whom was absolutely adamant that his club president serve as his partner in the doubles competition. Usa's mismatched eyes shared a similar gleam of delight for once, and he screamed at Yuuto's acceptance of his offer as if he had already won the whole tournament.

"Yes! I got Akama to be my partner! There's no way we can lose now!" Usamaru pumped his fist into the air. "And just when my power started manifesting, too! It's fate!"

"If you keep screaming like that, I'm gonna leave you for Asuhi or Tonkyun," Yuto threatened, but then laughed at the idea of it. "Ah, I actually can't do that. Sorry, I already signed our names in together and everything. Plus, Tonkyun decided to go with Nyamirin, so he should be fine." Akama's silvery eyes grew wide with worry, and he looked at Asuhi with great concern.

"Oh, but you don't have a partner, now, right? Think you'll be okay without the drama club?"

"I think so," Asuhi muttered, barely meeting his gaze with Yuto's discerning stare. "I-I could probably ask...H-Himi, or Minatogawa…"

"Um," Yuto said whilst rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "I hate to break it to you, but Himi is already paired with Meika. And last I heard, Eruna went with Minatogawa since she felt bad for him and since Seisa rejected her first offer." The news and gossip was recited expertly, as if Yuuto had a knack for the broadcasting club this whole time, instead. "So you're gonna have to—"

"—Find someone else." Asuhi finished the sentence in a dull voice, a bit disappointed that his friends and acquaintances already had other people to fall back on. But he supposed that if he had woken up earlier, he could have been partnered up with Yuto from the start and not have to worry about it. Why did he stay up so late, again? Why didn't he go to bed on time and wake up for breakfast like everyone else?

These questions reverberated in his mind, and the obvious answer did not appear before him just yet. Yuto waved goodbye to his friend, before being pulled away by his nagging club members that were celebrating a premature victory. As his earthen image was ripped out of sight, Asuhi felt his walls crumbling down.

Who would he pair up with? Or would he have to be excluded from this tournament? It seemed mandatory and if he didn't find a partner soon, he would be assigned one randomly with the school's system. But the idea of working with a complete stranger made him feel dizzy, and suddenly the cafeteria crowd became too overwhelming for him. The boy staggered to find an empty seat, and sat in one of the benches close by the windows, breathing in and out as he tried to find himself once more.

"Imizu." A voice called out to him, but he couldn't respond just yet. He held up a shaky hand to signal to the other to stop for a moment, and with the other hand he covered his mouth as he tried to quell his trembling body. It would not do well to have a sudden panic attack over something so insignificant, but he wouldn't be able to stop it even if he wanted it to. He cursed his own weakness, and found relief when his chest opened up again and his breaths became less forced.

"Imizu?" There was a hint of genuine fear within the voice, that which was masked by the plain concern and worry.

"Yes," he gasped out, not looking at the person who spoke to him in the first place. "S-Sorry, I was having a...well, I was—"

"—I know." The voice continued on, unaffected by the anxious display in its entirety. "You good?"

"I'm fine now." The boy was trying to reassure himself, more than anyone else. "W-What is it?"

"Did you find someone to partner up with in the tournament already?"

"Huh?"

"I'm speaking clearly."

"W-Well, you are, I just needed a second to think...um, _no,_ I haven't. Everyone I wanted to pair up with has someone else already…"

"...I see."

"Yeah, but it's fine, they'll just put me on a team with a stranger, probably. I-I'll be okay."

"I doubt that, somehow."

"But—"

"Imizu," the voice became more serious, and it seemed to loom over the younger boy with a shadow of its own. He felt chills crawl up his spine, and his eyes remained affixed on the floor in front of him.

Were his ears deceiving him? What was going on?

"Imizu," the voice repeated itself, and then became earnest. "I'll be your partner."

He looked up, and expected to find some stranger that somehow knew his name, but was still utterly kind to him because the voice was so comforting. He expected to see Shigure, maybe, as the third year student was relatively nice and easy going when he wanted to be. Maybe he even expected to see Kumano from the drama club, as she was more sympathetic than she looked and even took a liking to him at times.

But instead, he looked up, and found that he was immediately caught off guard by the _scarlet eyes_ that bore into him like molten lava. They tried to burn him, those eyes, but it didn't work because Asuhi's own irises were green and blue in one pretty color—a representative of the calm waves and playful sprays of the ocean. Water and fire met in one turbulent gaze, and the seas caught ablaze and the flames splashed like puddles between it all. Two different entities meeting in a similar, simultaneous movement—all which resulted in leaving Asuhi breathless and mystified, utterly disbelieving of the situation in front of him.

It was Kyoma he was staring at, and he wore an expression more serious than death when he stared at Asuhi. He repeated himself once more, with a voice that was not as cruel as his eyes were being. "I'll be your partner, Imizu."

 _I won't leave you to dry out._

* * *

 **After the humans had been saved,**

 **Asclepius returned to the heavens** _ **above.**_


	5. Tyche

**Tyche took pity on the humans after the incident,**

 **and granted them the gift of** _ **fortune.**_

* * *

"W-What?" Asuhi stuttered. "You'll be _what?"_

"You need to get your damned ears cleaned," Kyoma barked. "I _said_ that I'm gonna be your partner. Why do you look so surprised?"

 _Why are you so calm about this?_ Asuhi thought to himself, too afraid to make his curiosities come to life. He just stared at Kyoma, and tried to find reason and meaning within his blood-red eyes. He looked and looked, but he found nothing but unshakable conviction and great annoyance.

Asuhi gulped as his body started closing in on himself. It was a habit more than anything, and there was something familiar about the way he lowered his gaze, and bore holes into the ground with his teal-eyed stare. He fiddled with his thumbs, and stuttered over himself with great hesitation.

"I just don't understand why you would want to partner with me. I m-mean, if this is somehow your way of paying me back for last night, you don't have to go through so much trouble. The Doubles Tournament is sort of intensive, a-and not that—"

"—I _know_ that," Kyoma cut in. "I know I don't have to pay you back with this, or at all. I know how things in life work, Imizu." There was a harsh bite to his words, but something about the forlorn look in Kyoma's eyes helped to offset that negativity. He studied the shorter boy carefully, with no veritable expression on his face except for a great intensity that burned like fire.

If Asuhi was looking up at Kyoma like he should have been, then he would have withered in place from the sheer determination coming from his blood-red eyes. But his gaze stayed affixed on the ground, and he was spared the incessant flames that were Kyoma's eyes. "T-Then you really want to be my partner?" The truth escaped his lips in disbelieving strings, although there was the _tiniest_ hint of amusement hidden in the back of his throat.

He really _couldn't_ believe that anyone would want to partner up with him. Sure, he placed high during the Rookie Tournament, but he was ultimately defeated by Otone Fujishiro, so it went to show that he wasn't all _that_ good. Being at Kyoma's side was ten times more nerve-wracking than the entirety of the Rookie Tournament had been, and Asuhi hated himself for thinking that way. But he couldn't help it. He couldn't help that his insides churned to ash, or that his breath got caught between his throat and mouth in awkward wheezes.

He whimpered. "Are you sure about this?"

"...Do you think I'm lying?" Kyoma asked this neutrally, but there was no way to hide the accusatory tones that laid underneath the formality of it all. There was no way to lessen the narrowing of his eyes, either. "I'm not joking, Imizu. I _am_ getting tired of repeating myself, though."

"S-Sorry! I don't mean to say that you're lying, or anything like that. I just can't believe it," he admitted while shifting weight from one foot to the other. Then he brought his gaze up to meet the other's in slow but hesitant movements.

Kyoma looked good from this angle, too. He was also much _closer_ than Asuhi expected him to be, and the fact that he usually towered over him was more pronounced than usual since Asuhi was seated on a bench while Kyoma stood tall. A tiny shadow was cast as a result, but it didn't bother Asuhi in the slightest as he let the shade come over him in pleasant waves.

The artist huffed, and scratched at one of his cheeks—right in the center of the trademark star that was painted on his skin.

This confused the younger boy, because he was sure that Kyoma was paint-free after having been caught in last night's rain storm. He was with him for a good length of time, but they _did_ separate from each other after leaving the nurse's office earlier in the day. Maybe he reapplied the usual look to himself in that time they were apart. This amused Asuhi for some reason, and he tried to fight the smile that wanted to cross his face as a result.

"Well, you'd better believe it," Kyoma said. "I don't usually go outta my way to do this kind of thing, so…"

"Right…" Asuhi trailed off, then realized it was getting increasingly awkward to remained seated as he was. Noticing this social misstep, he flailed as he tried to stand to his feet. The little space between himself and Kyoma was quite restrictive, and Asuhi expected himself to fall back on the bench as a failure for maintaining his balance.

Luckily for him, Kyoma seemed just a _bit_ more quicker at understanding what he wanted, so he quickly stood back in order to give the other boy some space. He moved with uncertainty—and together with his telescope in tow—it amused Kyoma to think that the telescope weighed the same amount as its owner, and that Asuhi's weak frame would crumble beneath its force.

The younger boy still held steady, though, which amused the older boy to greater lengths. This feeling was so rare for him, and he didn't care to obscure it like he did with most other things. Instead, he let the emotions show, as his lips curled up to form the tiniest of smirks, that which—coupled with his generally disheveled look and indignant gaze—only helped to make him look more like the delinquent that Eruna had accused him of being once before.

Asuhi didn't mind this sudden turn in attitude, although he found himself flustered to see the other _smile_ for once. It was an unusual smile, however, and far different from the ones that people normally made. Yet it was satisfying to see all the same, and Asuhi desperately hoped that the redness on his face wasn't too noticeable as he coughed into his hand—pretending he that he didn't witness the act at all, despite catching it in its entirety.

He stammered over himself. "T-Thank you, Kuzuryuu. Ah, we should probably g-get the forms signed and everything."

"Sure," he replied. He also gave a nonchalant shrug which didn't do much to offset his obvious concern in the matter. "I think the sign up table's over that way. Come on, then."

Kyoma started melting into the crowd, and Asuhi squeaked as he scrambled over his feet to keep up with him. Every first year student was in the building, apparently, together with a large group of second and third year students that would serve as their respective partners. The sound of overlapping voices and incessant laughter was harsh on the ears, and Asuhi would have covered his own if he wasn't already clutching so tightly onto the straps of his telescope. He was so glad that Kyoma was leading the way, otherwise he might have stood there like a fool as the energy of the other students enveloped him in full—leaving him dry and drained as he let himself get shoved back and forth by more eager hands than his.

No, the sight of Kuzuryuu's back standing tall as a shield in front of Imizu was a relief. It also made him self-conscious, however, as he realized just how short and feeble he looked in comparison to the bigger, _stronger_ male in front of him. Although the school jacket sloughed off Kuzuryuu's shoulders in a lazy manner, it did nothing to hide the obvious formidability in his shoulders and back. It did nothing to mask his healthy appearance, just as it did nothing to besmirch his good looks. In fact, if Kyoma just (literally) cleaned up his act, then he would become one of those male heartthrobs that everyone pines over.

If he wasn't so terribly harsh and volatile, then he might have been extremely popular with the other students. He would have a natural light around him, one that stemmed from honest smiles and kind eyes. He would be like Eruna Ichinomiya in a way, as the two of them would have been energetic stars in the universe of Mikagura, such that they would attract others with their nature and beauty.

If Kyoma was just different somehow, then he could have been everything that Asuhi lacked and more.

These thoughts circulated through the smaller boy's mind endlessly, and it made him realize that Kyoma's actions and words as of late lacked their typical bitterness. It was strange, because Asuhi was sure that Kyoma hated him ever since he accidentally bumped into him on the first day of the new school year. He was sure that the taunting nickname "Girly Rookie" would get stuck on him like glue, and he would have to endure the same bullying that he had received for years on end prior to attending Mikagura.

He was so sure of everything, yet all the certainties came crashing down like bricks in a broken tower, as Kyoma continually and effortlessly kept surprising Asuhi in nearly every way possible. He first surprised him with his weakness and vulnerability, that which was evident from the night out in the storm, when Kyoma was bruised beyond recognition and his eyes glowed with a wild _hunger_ and _desperation._ What he thirsted for, Asuhi didn't know. But there was something deep and personal within him that night, and Asuhi felt slightly uncomfortable to know that he had seen the older student in such a way.

The next surprise came when Kyoma didn't immediately revert to his unsociable and inconsolable self the morning after. Where Asuhi expected him to go back to being stubborn and hurtful as always, Kyoma had been exactly the opposite as he acted politely enough to the point where he asked for Asuhi's help, and he had been weak enough to stumble along the hallways with only Asuhi's meager strength as his guide. Even as the nurse asked humiliating questions to them, Kyoma answered with a sort of _sincerity_ that not even Asuhi could anticipate.

The latest surprise was, of course, Kyoma's suggestion that he become Asuhi's partner in the Doubles Tournament. While Asuhi had some natural talent in battle to call his own, Kyoma was surely in another league—high above him together with the stars which he so adored. He had only ever seen the artist in battle once, but it was all he needed to know in order to realize something.

Kyoma was _strong._ He was terrifyingly, easily, stupidly strong. While his power was limited in only the way that his could use it, his offensive and volatile tactics on the battlefield were nothing to sneeze at. He always came at the opponents with full force, but in a way that made sure they would never get hurt. No, it was obvious that pain was the last thing that Kyoma wanted (and it was the last thing that would be tolerated at the academy, because battles were strictly prohibited from getting violent at all) and the way he focused on blinding his opponents with flash bombs or catching them off guard with loud sounds was evidence of it. He only used the explosive paints once in a while, and even then he aimed for the territory around the opponent, rather than aiming for the opponent themselves.

It was hard to miss hitting someone that was so close to you, so Asuhi knew that Kyoma was cautious on purpose. Yes, the third-year was surprisingly adept, considerate, and strong—such that Asuhi couldn't imagine why he would want to team up with his weakness, in contrast. If they were going to be partners in a long road of battles, then Asuhi didn't want Kyoma to carry him the entire time. He didn't want their team's efforts to be one-sided, even if the painter was obviously leagues stronger than him.

He wanted to help. He wanted to make a difference.

He realized that he genuinely liked the idea of being Kyoma's partner, so when the two of them finally arrived at the sign up table, they didn't hesitate in filling in the empty boxes with their names. They didn't hesitate in giving out their signatures, and passing back-and-forth pleasantries with the students in charge of the whole process. By the time it was done, Asuhi's head was spinning and the noise around him increased tenfold. Kyoma lead him silently outside of the cafeteria, to more open spaces where the heated crowd of students wouldn't be there to impede him any further.

As they found a private place to talk, Kyoma continued to surprise Asuhi.

"So, let's start training from now on."

"Eh? Really?"

"Well, yeah. We might as well get a head start since classes are canceled today." Kyoma shrugged at this knowledge, and Asuhi pretended not to know that it was obvious that Kyoma skipped classes regardless of the situation. "Besides, there's no point in worrying about anyone else if we're not solid ourselves."

"I guess you have a point," Asuhi said. "Alright, so it'll be a simulation battle between the two of us? I-I think I'll be okay with that!"

"Good." Kyoma nearly smiled, and as if on cue, his crystals started appearing around him. They were colorful cube-shaped objects like dice, and Asuhi watched them roll over themselves in the air just to see if they had numbers on their faces or not. When he found no such thing, he barely realized that his own crystals had materialized in the air, as well.

Asuhi's crystals were star-shaped, poignant, and pretty as they hovered in the air around him. While they were normally a unique sight to see, the only person that could actually view them in this moment was Kyoma himself. This simulation battle was unofficial, and as such it had no referee or spectators outside of anyone that might have stumbled across them in their training session. But Asuhi was fine with this, he preferred having little interference from outsiders, anyway.

He stood a good distance away from Kyoma, and watched as colorful magical barriers surrounded them all at once. He knew that this stunning visual display was the academy's doing, and the barriers were the boundary lines for their battlefield. At the time, they occupied one of the makeshift training grounds just outside of the cafeteria. There was wide grass growing over vast stretches of land, and there was plenty of room for them to make a mess of things during battle.

Which—judging from the way that Kyoma's palette turned and by the way that the paint splattered—would be _very_ messy. Speckles of orange and red were dripping down off the sides, and Asuhi watched them with a fixated gaze as he waited for the signal to start their simulation battle. Even if it wasn't a real battle that could be held accountable against him, he didn't like thinking about the possibilities that lied in the fact that he would be up against Kyoma's unpredictable palette bullets.

He stomached the anxiety that threatened to grow larger, and did his best to look as self-assured as possible. "I'm ready, Kuzuryuu."

"Alright."

The first paint bullet shot out. Asuhi swiftly jumped to the side, barely dodging it by a hair. His crystals seemed unfractured somehow, and he counted that as a success. What he didn't count on, however, was how fast Kyoma would attack a second time. As soon as he tried to get back to his telescope (which was mounted only a few short inches away from him), he felt another paint bullet whiz by his head.

This time, the paint did just more than aim at his crystals. He heard a loud noise, and within seconds there was a cloud of smoke obscuring his vision. The black smog was all he could see, and he hid behind his telescope out of fear. He clutched his ears to block out the deafening noise as worried thoughts invaded his head.

 _Did Kuzuryuu combine the flash smoke with a sound bomb? I know he can mix colors and effects, but this is too much…_

Kyoma really was _strong,_ and he wasn't kidding when he said that if Asuhi couldn't handle him, then he definitely had no business worrying about their future opponents. Even so, it was frightening and relieving all at once to see the artist's talent like this. It was frightening because it made Asuhi blanch at the thought of _really_ fighting Kyoma, where points and club reputation would be on the line, but also because he didn't want to know the other's true strength. It was relieving because it meant that their opponents in the upcoming tournament would have a hard time keeping up with them, especially with Kyoma in the mix. That much was certain, at least.

As Asuhi mulled this over, he realized that Kyoma didn't attack again for some time. A good minute or so passed and Imizu opened one eye to inspect the damage. He saw that the smoke was clearing already, and he could make out the faint outline of Kyoma's body in the distance. He seemed unmoving, although his brush and palette were clearly spinning behind him. The repetitive sound of paint spraying against the ground below them was heard, and Asuhi involuntarily flinched at the noise.

However, that was when he also understood what Kyoma's intentions were. He was purposefully letting Asuhi recollect himself, and he was intentionally giving him enough time to formulate a plan. If it weren't for the fact that this was a simulation battle—and that it was merely _practice_ in every aspect—then Asuhi would have definitely lost by now. But because it _was_ just a trial, and because no real stakes were involved, then even Kyoma could afford to be a little lackluster in his movements.

He almost sighed when he called out: "Hey, don't tell me I accidentally put you to sleep, instead!"

"Y-You can do that, too?" Asuhi wondered incredulously, voice barely audible over the dying rings of the flash bomb. "Don't count me out yet!"

As soon as he said that, he pressed the button on his telescope. Stars and beams shot out in technicolor rays, aligning themselves into a perfect formation before shooting straight at Kyoma. Through the lasting remnants of the smoke, Asuhi could see the whole scene unfold before him. He saw his stars shooting out like lasers, their bright and ethereal light both distracting yet pleasing to the eye. He saw multi-colored splashes of paint spread across the grass and dirt, and he saw a half-worried look appear on Kyoma's blank face.

While Asuhi didn't like to get overly eager at the sight of a win, he was sure that at least one of Kyoma's crystals would shatter underneath his retaliatory touch. One of those cubes would break to pieces and become nothing more than iridescent dust before them. And yet, nothing of that sort happened.

Kyoma's palette flew out from behind him, and spun around rapidly as it deflected the oncoming attack. Asuhi's stars flew off dejectedly from the surface, fading away into the air as their attack had completely failed.

Asuhi felt his stomach turn itself into knots, and his fingers failed to move properly. He hadn't expected the attack to be thwarted so easily, just as he hadn't expected Kyoma's power to be so well balanced. Aside from his devastatingly offensive attacks, he had a good amount of defense since his palette automatically tried to block any projectiles that got in the way. The only thing holding him back was his limit as a human, and how well he could aim and estimate the distance between himself and the opponent.

He was the exact opposite of Asuhi in some respects, who had to be stationary with his power, but still had less offensive output damage as a whole. He was not nearly defensive enough, either, and if an enemy got too close to him, he would be done for.

It reminded him of his simulation battle with Yuto all that time ago, and how he had ended the battle within two minutes because he had gotten close enough to crush all of Asuhi's crystals at once. The defeat was quick and momentary, but it stung all the same. Asuhi felt the embarrassment and shame run hot through his veins again, and he bit down on his lip to quell the indignation that stirred there.

He really didn't learn anything from that time, did he? He wondered about himself, and if he would be adequate enough to defeat _anyone,_ let alone Kuzuryuu. Imizu forced himself to stay focused on the battle, and thought long and hard about what to do with his next move. It wouldn't be long before Kuzuryuu got bored enough that he would stop stalling, and when that happened it would only take a few well-placed bullets to do him in and end the battle swiftly.

 _I won't let that happen!_ Imizu thought to himself. _A-At least not without trying to stop him, first!_

With a sudden new resolve burning inside of him, Asuhi nodded and pressed the button on his telescope again. He gave it another press shortly thereafter, and a third push after that. The rapid-fire succession of his movements forced his telescope to shoot out more stars than it could, but instead of overloading itself it simply fired them all out at once.

Kyoma didn't say anything, but the shock was evident enough on his face that he didn't have to. Several streamlines of starlight came barreling down at him, and his palette was not enough of a shield to block them out at once. While he certainly wasn't talented with speedy movements like Eruna or Yuuto were, he had enough sense of agility that he tumbled out of the way, and ducked down beneath the offensive rays as he tried to dodge the worst of it.

His paint showered the ground with every step he took, and the bullets activated their effects in tandem. It left large puffs of smoke and smaller explosions in his wake. Kyoma's half of the field had become drenched in colorful liquids, and covered in various paints. The chaotic noise of it all confused Asuhi, but he did his best to keep his gaze even as he observed the results of his actions.

A smile laced through his lips as he watched one of his opponent's dice-shaped crystals shatter completely, becoming nothing more than kaleidoscopic shards and bits on the ground. They were scattered and crushed beneath Kyoma's feet, and he didn't bother to filter himself when he let out an angry curse from underneath his breath.

Asuhi felt inspired to keep going, and realized that he might even be stronger than he first thought himself to be. He nodded to himself all the while, taking in these precious seconds of time where Kyoma was too concerned with the stars to notice him, and reigning in his anxious heart once more to prepare for another counterattack. As his fingers hovered over the button on his telescope, Asuhi thought proudly to himself.

 _One crystal down,_ he cheered inwardly. _Two more to go!_

* * *

 **The humans rejoiced in their newly found salvation,**

 **and spent the days and nights away riding on rivers of** _ **gold.**_


	6. Hermes

**Hermes caught wind of this turn of fortune,**

 **so he flew down to the earth to deliver more** _ **luck.**_

* * *

Asuhi prepared himself for another turnabout. As Kyoma dodged the lasting remnants of his attack, he fired up the telescope once more, and relished in the beams of starlight that shot out of it in perfect lines. Their bright and iridescent light was still so beautiful, and Asuhi caught himself distracted by their appearance.

It was the first mistake of many he would make. The second was the fact that he unintentionally undermined Kyoma's abilities, because he assumed that—with a second attack following closely from his previous one—the artist would be unable to rebound with the same initial aggression he had before. Kuzuryu disproved that idea in full, as he shot out more paint bullets to collide with oncoming stars. The two forces met in one, and caused a large explosion to resonate on the battlefield.

Asuhi tried to block out the dirt and wind that was rushing past him, but wasn't strong enough to fully withstand the aftermath of the explosion as he felt himself tumble backwards onto the ground. His telescope was still standing, fortunately, and he moved with every intention to return to his place behind it. His fingers itched for the sensation of the button being pressed, and he longed for the feeling of his attacks coming forth at full throttle once more.

The third mistake he made was the one where he assumed that the fight would just go easily from that point on. Kyoma huffed indignantly, and glanced at the paints which floated freely at his side. Their colorful and infinite properties gave him lots of room for experimentation and creativity. Because while certain colors had special effects in battle (red paint marked explosions, for example), he could stack the effects on top of each other, and even blend colors together to make new effects, too. His was a power with lots of room for creativity and growth, even if he as a person reached his maximum level of personal growth to begin with.

The thoughts _You're doing the best you can do and you'll never get better_ rang inside his head, with an incessant worry that caused him to act just a _bit_ more angrily than usual. He combined some of his green with the majority of the blues, as well as a touch of black and gray that turned the new color into something bright yet easy on the eyes. He smiled at his creation, and shot a decisive bullet in Asuhi's direction.

The boy was barely stumbling up to get back to his telescope when the paint bullet shot out. It hit him square on the chest, and he yelped pathetically from the force of it all. While the impact itself didn't hurt, it was just the initial shock of the force that scared him. The paint of metallic blue exploded against him effortlessly, and puffs of similarly-colored smoke appeared around him, as well.

Asuhi blinked, and wondered why the world was suddenly so fuzzy. He felt a yawn climb up his throat, but he failed to suppress it as it escaped his mouth in cute puffs. His body suddenly felt heavy, and he swayed unknowingly as he staggered even farther from the telescope than he was before. Half of him accepted this new grogginess, while the other half desperately tried to keep awake and reverse whatever spell Kyoma cast on him. He reached up to rub at his eyes, finding that doing so did not lessen the wavering look the scenery before him had taken on.

Imizu felt like he was standing on the deck of a rocking boat, or that he had gotten on a roller coaster without knowing it. He couldn't tell where the flatness of the earth once, and even when he stayed in place he felt the sleepiness creep into his body and mind like ice.

"W-What is this…?" he asked quietly. "This is—"

"—You're getting tired, huh?" Kyoma wondered aloud. He wasn't running or struggling to dodge attacks like before. He simply walked up to Asuhi without any fear of getting attacked. His remaining crystals bobbed slowly around him as he moved. "That's what you get for underestimating me, though."

"I w-wasn't trying to do that on purpose,, though…"

"I know, but you're paying the price for it anyway."

Imizu gasped, and stared up at Kuzuryu who was now less than five feet away from him. He was so, so tall, and the height never failed to astound the shorter boy. He just looked up helplessly, as his body felt leaden and unable to move even under the terrifying intensity that the other just naturally exuded. He couldn't even think to dash back towards his telescope, that which was too far away to be useful. He wasn't fast enough, anyway, but he silently wished he was Yuto or Eruna right now. Either of the two would be running circles around Kuzuryu in this situation, instead.

He felt like couldn't think, yet his mind was cluttered all at once. He tried not to think why that was as the world seemed to unravel before him.

"To be honest, I was just messin' with colors again, but I'm glad I ended up making something useful." He didn't leer at the other this time, instead keeping his gaze even as he reached out slowly. "It'll wear off soon, so don't worry."

 _Even though Kuzuryu is the one to say not worry, isn't he also worried about me since he brought it up?_ These thoughts reverberated inside his head, and it took every ounce of waking strength he had left to silence them. _No, you're not thinking straight at all right now. Don't assume weird things like that._

"This dramatic way of fighting and stuff isn't my style, but it's not a bad method, either." His words fell out fluidly in a low voice, that which was barely above a murmur. But because he was so close, Asuhi could make out the words perfectly without misunderstanding. He also didn't misunderstand the sound of one of his crystals shattering, probably because Kyoma reached out and squeezed it to bits in his hand.

Asuhi gulped. The end was near.

"You should really think about what to do when someone gets too close to you in battle," Kyoma advised. His tone was so soft that Asuhi thought he might have been replaced by someone else. Someone that was kinder, gentler, and nicer than Kyoma actually was. His words sounded foreign on Asuhi's ears. "Like right now, I'm barely crushing these things with my hands but you're not really able to stop me, huh?"

"T-That's 'cause you made me sleepy," Asuhi whined drowsily. He tried not to wince when he heard a second crystal shatter, or when he felt the shards lightly dust his shoulders. "No fair," he mused.

"Actually, this is _very_ fair. As long as someone doesn't get hurt, anything goes, right?" The third crystal remained in tact for some reason, and Kyoma paused as his hand hovered near Asuhi's head. "I don't think I've ever won this quickly, actually."

His heart sunk at that realization. Too many strange things were happening for him to be fixated on that alone, however. Asuhi was too honest right now, but so was Kyoma. He wondered if the artist was always like this when he was about to win, or if he got worked up into talking because of Asuhi's inexperience. Either way, the younger boy took this as a means to learn his lesson for real. He made the mistake of underestimating Kyoma, that was for sure, but he would not make the same mistake twice.

Feeling invigorated all of a sudden—and realizing that the paint's effects must have mostly worn out by now—Asuhi gasped loudly. The sound caught Kyoma off guard, who looked down at the other with a clear expression of concern. Things like _did something happen that wasn't supposed to_ or _did he get hurt somehow_ seemed to silently escape his mouth, although his lips didn't move in the slightest. But Asuhi felt flattered by the obvious worry on his part nonetheless, which was why he smiled as he moved.

He ducked out from under Kyoma's arm, and ignored his shouting protests. Then he snaked around, and did something he thought he would never be capable of doing.

He reached up with his hand, and took hold of one of the floating crystals he found near his opponent's head.

Then he _crushed_ it between his fingers. The feeling was completely painless, contrary to his initial belief, and he liked the way that the shards fell from his fingers like feathers from a plume. They drifted down to the ground, littering the grass below them and dusting the top of Kyoma's shoulder. He whipped around at once, and met Asuhi's half-euphoric and half-shocked gaze with his own.

Fire and water were present in their eyes as they collided again, and two heartbeats went at a faster speed than before. There was something about that opia—something about that eye contact which was so invasive and personal all at once, yet not at all unpleasant. There was something to be said about the way that hot and cold gazes mingled into one lukewarm sentiment, or how opposing forces came together in one neutral entity.

There was something lovely about this situation, and if Asuhi didn't know better he would have blushed. He restrained himself, though, and sighed out with defeat as Kyoma reached out and punched the remaining crystal he had to bits above his head. The star fragments drifted down like snow, and once they fell to the ground, the magical barriers surrounding them had disappeared.

There was a long silence between them, and they both stared at each other as they were covered in various places on their body with paint. Kyoma looked more colorful than a canvas, and he felt twice as inspirational, too. On the other hand, Asuhi's chest was coated with metallic blue paint, and bits of black and yellow hues (from the flash bomb and sound explosives earlier) were stuck to his hair and his back. They just looked at each other quietly for a few moments, before the older of the two broke that peace with a cutting armament that was his voice.

"Good work today," he praised humbly. "You're not bad, Imizu."

"Good work today," he repeated back to him. "A-And you were amazing, Kuzuryu! I-I was never a match for you at all…"

"Don't be an idiot," Kyoma snapped, feeling a twinge of guilt as he watched Asuhi recoil from the sudden aggression in his voice. "You almost beat me, too. So stop saying stuff like that, got it? If I hear another thing like 'I never stood a chance' or whatever, then I'm gonna get _really_ pissed off!"

"Eek!" Asuhi squeaked. "O-Okay, sorry, it's just a habit of mine...but thank you, Kuzuryu, for saying that I was good enough to almost beat you. I was out of options so I just did the first thing I thought of. I-I'm not as good in battle if I don't have my telescope…"

"That's why we're training, right?" He pointed this out in a firm voice, unflinching in his resolve. "It's no good if you're always stuck doing the same thing, so that's why I even bothered with the simulation battle to begin with."

"Right," Asuhi agreed. "Yes, it makes sense now. T-Thanks again, Kuzuryu."

"Stop thanking me, I didn't do much at all," Kyoma said in an exasperated voice. "Either way, let's head back now. You'd better get cleaned up before someone accuses me of messing around with you."

Asuhi turned red at the idea of it, or the idea of anyone talking about him being with Kyoma in general. Even if he wasn't adverse to the possibility of hanging out with the other, just the mere thought of being together was enough to send him into a strange frenzy. He stared down at the tops of his shoes nervously, folding in on himself once more as he tried to pretend that everything was right in the world, and that the heart beating so quickly in his chest was because of the adrenaline-filled battle— _not_ because of the unintentional, flustering words of the upperclassman before him.

It wasn't because of that feeling he had ever since he pulled his beautiful and damaged figure out of the rain, although that memory was sure to stick with him for some time. He buried it with the rest of his secrets, and nodded feverishly at the other with a renewed semblance of _confidence_ in his gaze.

"Yes," he cheered. "Let's go back!"

...

Sometime after cleaning up, Imizu and Kuzuryu encountered each other again. They exchanged phone numbers to better keep in touch, and Imizu tried to act like he wasn't completely anxious as he did so. He was unused to being so social all the time, even if it was only with just one other person. His usual company consisted of the stars above, and so for the past day and a half to have gone by so quickly with someone else was elating but frightening all at once.

Asuhi stared down at his phone screen, as if he were trying to decipher the strange language that sat there. A series of numbers blinked up at him, as well as a contact name that was simply written as "Kuzuryu" without his first name following. But the older student himself was the one to input his information, so the younger figured that he could change it later without worry.

As his mind fixed itself to stray from its path again, Kyoma spoke up. "This will be all from me today. If you want, we can meet up tomorrow."

"Sure," Asuhi said. "Maybe after class? U-Um…"

"What is it?" Kyoma asked. "You look like you wanna say something."

"Well, I know that you usually skip class, Kuzuryu, but I was hoping that maybe you wouldn't skip tomorrow's class. I-It's not good to be absent so often, and you'll miss out on all the points they give out for showing up…"

The artist went silent, and scratched at the star on his cheek thoughtfully. Finally, after a moment or so, he talked.

"I have plenty of points tallied up that I don't need to go to class. 'Sides, there isn't much that they'll teach me that I don't already know."

"Still, it'd give me peace of mind, more than anything."

"We'll see," Kyoma said. "I'm not making any promises."

"You don't have to!" Asuhi reassured. "Thank you for listening to my weird request. And thanks for training with me, it really helped a lot. I'll see you tomorrow, Kuzuryu!"

"...I'll see you."

Asuhi nodded, and adjusted the straps around his shoulder before he took himself—and his telescope—back to his room. He turned his back on Kyoma, and he felt safe as the other's crimson gaze was not to be seen. He had such an inquisitive look, after all, and the intensity that his eyes sometimes had was every bit overwhelming as it felt. But it wasn't such a bad feeling after all, Asuhi decided. And for the short time he had gotten used to seeing them, he found himself thinking that he _liked_ the way that Kyoma's eyes were. He liked seeing that introspection in the darker flecks of his irises—he liked seeing the gears of his mind turn like clockwork all at once.

Asuhi liked Kyoma a little bit, once he got past the initial gruffness that the other fronted. And if they were going to be partners in a doubles tournament, then they would have even more time to get used to each other, and more time to make something of their relationship. They could form it into a full-fledged friendship, even, and Asuhi would be one step closer to achieving his long dream of becoming a strong, bright person.

Just like the stars above, Asuhi would be another step closer to _perfection._

...

It was three o'clock in the morning. Asuhi was seated on the rooftop of the dormitory, telescope in hand and eyes aimed towards the heavens. The skies were clear, and so a multitude of stars could be seen from his angle. He sighed contentedly at their appearance, basking in their dim glow coupled with the moonlight.

For a moment, Asuhi was alone to his own thoughts. But then his phone vibrated, the sound of which shattered the peaceful illusion he indulged himself in. With a tiny groan, Asuhi reached over to his backpack, unzipped the main compartment, and pulled out his phone. The bright screen illuminated with a touch of his fingers, and he recoiled as he lowered the settings to something more tolerable for three in the morning.

It was a text he received. The conversation read:

 **Kuzuryu:** Hey, you still up?

 **Imizu:** yes, and so are you it seems

 **Kuzuryu:** Couldn't sleep so I got bored. Wyd?

Imizu paused here, the acronym that Kuzuryu used was not so familiar in his mind. He remembered Akama using it some time ago, and it finally registered in his mind what the other was trying to say. With a quietly embarrassed huff, he typed up his reply.

 **Imizu:** hanging out with the stars they're very happy tonight (*´▽`*)

 **Kyoma:** you talk to the stars?

 **Imizu:** yeah i do. is that weird?

 **Kyoma:** yeah but it's not a bad thing. Tell the stars that I said hi.

 **Imizu:** haha, ok! Will do ( ´ ▽ ` )

Their conversation stopped there for a time, and the next half and hour passed by uneventfully as Asuhi continued gazing at the stars. He rubbed at his tired eyes, and pondered over whether or not he should head down to bed. Just as he considered reaching out for his telescope to put it away, his phone buzzed with another text.

Asuhi opened it, thinking that it was just Kyoma yelling at him to get some sleep. Instead, there was a series of several words strung together, that which seemed so much sweeter and nicer than anything Asuhi had ever experienced before. He reread them over and over again, just so he could glean their meaning in a new way each time.

 **Kyoma:** and tell them they've got nothing on you.

He couldn't possibly respond to that. And Kyoma probably didn't expect him to, because there was no other text on his end that indicated he was waiting for a response. Rather, the night grew eerily quiet again, and Asuhi braced himself as he anticipated a follow-up text that would serve as some sort of explanation.

Instead, the void of quiet enveloped him, leaving him slightly embarrassed and disoriented in the middle of the night. All he could do was stare at his phone, and wonder what had gotten into Kyoma for him to send something as silly (and _affectionate_ ) as that.

He supposed he could ask him in the morning, and if not, then he had all the time in the world to talk to him again. With that resolve in his chest, Asuhi packed up his telescope, and started heading back towards his dorm room.

A tiny spark lit up in his chest, and his eyes were cast downward as his face flushed with a light shade of pink. All of these feelings sparked from something small, but scintillating—something tiny but joyful, all the same. Kyoma's text single handedly had done him in, with little to no protest on Asuhi's end. A shallow sigh escaped his lips as he walked.

He thought grimly to himself.

 _Well, there goes any chance for a peaceful sleep tonight…_

* * *

 **The humans accepted Hermes' givings in full,**

 **and lived lives full of** _ **happiness.**_


End file.
